


to save others

by Vennat



Series: Harry Potter and the Hidden Path [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Depression, Food Issues, Friendship, Gen, Harry Potter Has a Pet Snake, Harry Potter Has a Saving People Thing, Harry Potter is Bad at Feelings, Harry Potter is a Good Friend, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Mentor Severus Snape, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25448803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vennat/pseuds/Vennat
Summary: Book 2 of Harry Potter and the Hidden Path. Harry's 3rd year.With Sirius out of Azkaban, Harry hopes for a solid parental figure in his life.(Hoping has never gone well for Harry.)And what is 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 that creepy Muggle studies teacher?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Harry Potter & The Weasley's, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood & Harry Potter
Series: Harry Potter and the Hidden Path [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1440085
Comments: 48
Kudos: 383
Collections: Best of Harry Potter





	to save others

**Author's Note:**

> book 2!!!!!!!! what the fuck is UP people!!!!!!
> 
> i'll just let you dive into this one. but i will say: thank you all so much for sticking with me! almost a year after ch1 of book 1 was posted, here is ch1 of book 2. enjoy!!!!

Harry is hungry.

Harry is tired. 

Harry is sore.

Harry is lonely, in pain, he just wants to rest, he wants the Dursleys to leave him alone, he wishes his parents--

Harry is two weeks away from leaving the Dursleys and he is not sure that he can take it.

_______________________

  
  


When it is only nine days until Harry leaves the Dursleys, he receives a letter. This is not an altogether unusual event. Harry has received letters from every one of his friends at least once a week since the summer began.

This letter, however, is attached to an owl he has never seen before, and the scrawl of his name on the outside is not in any handwriting he recognizes. Curiously, Harry takes his letter over to his sagging mattress and settles onto the edge. 

Today, Harry had managed to complete all his chores, avoid Uncle Vernon, and not bother Aunt Petunia any more than simply existing already did. He had been unable to escape Dudley and his gang, but luckily they had targeted him and not the rose bush he had been attending to. He had even managed to sneak a small handful of the cooled grease leftover in the pan from breakfast. It had been disgusting and slimy going down, but it was heavy and satisfying in Harry’s stomach. Even the marks Uncle Vernon had left on him three days ago were beginning to heal. And best of all, by avoiding punishment (perceived or deserved), Harry was allowed to stay in Dudley’s second bedroom for the night, rather than the cupboard. 

All in all, Harry was having a rather positive day, considering where he was stuck. 

_ Harry, _

_ I hope that so far you are enjoying your summer. I have heard about your plans to visit your friends this summer, and I am afraid that I must inform you that you can’t do that. This is for your safety, of course. As you well know, there are still many supporters of Voldemort who are still alive, and spending a large amount of time away from your home would simply make you too vulnerable.  _

_ You will, of course, see your friends once the term starts, and I dare say your relatives would miss you too much if you were to go away for so long before the school year! A few days with the Weasleys in order to get your school supplies should suffice. _

_ Best, _

_ Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  _

Numbly, Harry stood from his bed. He would need to write to his friends, let them know that he wouldn’t be able to go with them at the end of the summer. Harry pulled out a fresh sheet of Muggle notebook paper that he had found in an old notebook of Dudleys. 

_ Ron,  _

_ Dumbledore just wrote to me. He says that I can’t leave the Dursleys, and I need to stay here until the last few days of summer. He said that I could go to yours to get my school supplies. Would you mind passing the message on to the others? Thanks. _

_ Sorry, _

_ Harry. _

He folded his letter up, sticking it closed with a bit of sticky tape, and brought it to Hedwig. She hooted softly at him and flew up to his shoulder, where he could better give her the letter to clutch in her talons. She preened at his hair for a moment, gently ruffling it with her beak, before flying to the window and soaring away.

Harry sat back on his bed, watching as Hedwig flew further and further away until she was nothing but a little speck on the horizon. 

He collapsed backward on his bed, hissing lightly as his back stung a little bit. Today had been… almost  _ good.  _ Harry had spent the last two months at the Dursleys fantasizing about finally getting  _ away  _ from them, and being able to spend some time with his friends outside of school. Harry had barely been able to stay afloat the whole summer, trying desperately to stop himself from spiraling into the mindset he always developed at the Dursleys.

And yet, with a month more of the Dursleys ahead of him, Harry could already feel himself falling into despair. 

_______________________

  
  


Harry spent the next month in an uneasy rhythm. As much as he hated it, Harry had spent the first 11 years of his life entirely at the Dursleys, and he knew how to survive there. Do the chores you are assigned, don’t talk back, avoid Vernon as much as possible. Harry knew the rhythm-- but the thing was, the Dursleys did not always stick to the same rhythm that Harry had learned. Vernon had random, violent outbursts. Dudley would grow bored and cause pointless trouble for Harry. Petunia would grow sick of the sight of him.

Harry would end up in the cupboard. 

_______________________

  
  


_ Dear Harry, _

_ 3 more days! We’ll be seeing you very soon! Ron’s older brother Bill will be by around 12 on August 27th to pick you up. We can’t wait to see you! We’ve missed you so much! _

_ Love,  _

_ Hermione, Luna, Draco, Ron, and Ginny _

_______________________

  
  


Aunt Petunia had gotten a pursed look to her lips when Harry had shown her the letter a few days ago but had convinced Vernon to leave Harry alone until he was to leave. That night, she had given him a small portion of the dinner that he had cooked, and despite knowing better, Harry had eaten the whole thing and been sick to his stomach for hours afterward.

Either way, the Dursleys were long versed in normality, and by the day Bill was to pick Harry up, the sharp look had faded from his cheeks. His shirt and jeans covered up any lingering bruises and any scars he carried. 

Sat on his trunk at the end of Number 4 Privet Drive, Harry figured that no one would be able to tell what his summer was like, just base don how he looked. He was sure that he had lost some weight since the summer began because his ribs stuck out far more, but he figured that as long as he kept his shirt and jeans on, no one would be able to tell.

At 12 pm (or so Harry assumed, not owning a watch), a sharp crack rang out across Privet Drive. In the middle of the lawn stood a man with shaggy red hair tied back in a small tail, and a white fang earring. He was dressed in Muggle clothing and looked fairly regular if a little too much like the “delinquents” Uncle Vernon loved to complain about. The man broke into a grin when he saw Harry at the end of the drive, but faltered a bit as he watched Harry stand and struggle to drag his trunk over to the man. He jogged over to Harry to help him. 

The man picked up the trunk easily and jerked his head for Harry to follow him around to the side of the house, where they were slightly sheltered from the nosy neighbor’s views by the garage, Vernon’s car, and the small trees around the back fence. The man settled Harry trunk at their feet, then stuck out his hand for Harry to shake. 

“Bill Weasley,” he said, “you must be Harry.”

Not Harry Potter. Just… Harry. He liked that. He offered the man a small smile and nod as he dropped his hand. 

Bill pulled a wand from his pocket and crouched down, muttering to himself as he tapped the lid to the trunk with his wand. The trunk shrank in size, and Bill handed him the shrunken version, and Harry stowed it in his pocket. 

“Ever apparated before?”

Harry shook his head. Bill nodded in understanding. 

“That’s alright. You might feel a little sick afterward, and the actual action is not very comfortable, but as long as you hold on tight to me you’ll be just fine. Don’t let go, ok?” Bill offered him his arm, and Harry wrapped his own very tightly around it. 

Bill spun them, and as Harry stepped again to gain his balance it seemed as if the ground fell away from under him. He felt as if he was being pulled and stretched, before being sucked through a straw, and just as Harry felt he couldn’t take anymore, he landed on solid ground with a stumble. 

He staggered two paces from Bill, before bending over and retching his small breakfast into the grass. After a few more seconds of coughing and choking, Harry wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and stood up, taking in his surroundings. 

At the top of the hill, sat the Burrow. He and Bill had landed in the backyard, and through the windows, Harry could see someone walking back and forth, but they were too far away to truly make out any details.

“Alright there? Food is the best thing to settle your stomach after Apparating. C'mon.” Bill said, coming close enough to banish the pile of half-digested food that Harry had left on the grass. Harry nodded and followed after Bill as he began up the hill.

When they get to the back door, Bill heads inside without knocking, and Harry slips in behind him. They get halfway through the kitchen by the time Mrs. Weasley notices him.

“Oh, Harry!” She says, swiping her wand in a large arc and sending an array of sandwiches into assembling themselves. She sets her hands on his shoulders, pulling him out from behind Bill.

“Now let me look at you, dear.” She looks him up and down, tutting as she pulls at the edges of his too-large t-shirt, straightening it. “Let’s get some food into you, you’re far too thin for my liking.” 

Harry lets her kindly manhandle him into a chair at the table, and watches as she finishes making lunch for what looks like a small army, and sets it across the table. 

“Bill, go tell everyone that it’s time for lunch, would you please?” Bill raises a hand in understanding and leaves the room. A few seconds later Harry can hear him calling through the house for everyone to come down for lunch. Mrs. Weasley settles herself at the head of the table, and Bill comes back into the room and sits near his mother, as the pounding of feet on stairs echoes through the house.

Ron bursts into the room followed closely by Draco, Hermione, Luna, and Ginny.

“Harry!” He cries in excitement, charging over to where Harry is seated. Harry barely has time to stand before Ron is crushing him into a hug. Harry stutters in a gasp as his ribs protest the treatment, and as Ron sets him back he works hard to wipe the blatant expression of pain off his face. Hermione is two steps behind Harry, but luckily she doesn’t hug him, so he has a chance to catch his breath. She grabs his hand, squeezing, and smiles at him.

“Harry, I know we already sent you letters, but I’m so disappointed that you weren’t able to leave your family earlier this summer! We had the most wonderful time, taking Draco to a Muggle restaurant, and Ms. Narcissa took us to a restaurant in Paris through the Floo! It was wonderful.” Hermione prattles on, looking excited. Her skin is darker than it was last he saw her, probably because of how much time she had spent outside. Both Ron and Ginny had more freckles, and though Draco was still incredibly pale, the tips of his ears and nose were pink.

Harry knows he has already caught his breath, but trying to talk around the lump in his throat seems impossible.  _ I should’ve been there,  _ he wants to say, but it’s not fair. They had tried to get him away from his relatives this summer, but Dumbledore had put a stop to it. And what does he know? Harry would rather take his chances with an Ex-Death Eater attack than stay at the Dursley’s as long as he had. 

Luckily, Harry doesn’t have a chance to speak.

“Harry, you’ll  _ never  _ guess what happened at Malfoy Manor--” begins Ron, but Mrs. Weasley promptly cuts him off.

“Ah! This summer was very exciting, yes, but it can wait until after we eat.” Mrs. Weasley gestures towards the food, and so many hands go flying for the sandwiches they seem to blur in front of Harry’s eyes. The frenzy calms after a moment, and Harry stutters. Prepared with magic, every sandwich is the same. There is no soggy bottom sandwich, or a thinner sandwich, or one with more vegetables than meat. Every one of those sandwiches looks good.

Too good for Harry. 

Mrs. Weasley notices his hesitance. 

“Not hungry?” She directs toward him, ever so slightly concerned. 

_ No,  _ he wants to say-- because really, he’s not. The Dursley’s had given him several thick, fatty slices of bacon, and two pieces of toast slathered in butter and jam. He might have vomited it all up earlier, but most of it had been digested by then, and it was more than he’d gotten for most of the summer. But he also wants to say yes, because some primal part of him, still locked in the cupboard, will always eat itself sick and keep eating after it emptied itself. It is so used to the gutting, stomach-wrenching hunger that it can never truly forget what that feels like. 

Harry shrugs. Mrs. Weasley frowns lightly, and Harry’s stomach plummets at the thought of disappointing her. She swings her wand, in one fluid motion from out of her sleeve and into her hand. A small little pastry comes into sight from behind the mountain of sandwiches and sets itself on Harry’s plate. It’s quickly followed by a few little carrots and a small cookie. She gestures again, and Harry’s glass fills itself with water. 

“Something smaller, but it still has protein so you won’t be hungry until dinner.” She says with a smile, and as Harry looks down at his plate, he feels the weight of eyes on him. He doesn’t look up at any of them, instead crunching on a carrot.

“...Now can I tell Harry, mum?” Ron asks, breaking the sort of silence that only comes about when everyone in a room is thoroughly enjoying a meal. Harry looks up, and all of his friends are looking at Mrs. Weasley imploringly. 

Mrs. Weasley nods, and Ron drops his sandwich onto his plate-- which tells Harry that whatever this is about is apparently serious enough to warrant a break in Ron’s meal. Harry pays attention.

“We went to Draco’s house, right? It was really cool, you’d love it, but of course, Hermione begs Draco to give us a tour of the library. So we go, it’s huge and… full of books, I wasn’t paying much attention. I wander off a little bit, and I pass this table with a Sneakoscope on it, and it goes off when I pass it. Now I don’t have anything Dark or suspicious on me, I didn’t think. So I empty out my pockets, and all I had was a bit of candy and Scabbers. I run the candy close to the Sneakoscope, thinking Fred and George did something to it-” here, Fred and George snicker, “- but it’s fine. Scabbers is still asleep, so I run the Sneakoscope over him, and it goes off again. So I call Draco over, and he fire-calls Uncle Sev--”

“Ronald, for Pete’s sake, how many times do I have to tell you that most of what’s normal in the Wizarding World isn’t the same in the Muggle World! Harry, a Sneakoscope is a magical item that alerts you when something is of Dark magical origins or is nasty in some way-- cursed, hexed, or suspicious. Fire-calling someone is when you use Floo Powder and just stick your head through for a chat.” Hermione cuts in, probably catching sight of the confusion on Harry’s face. Harry smiles at her gratefully. 

“Right, so Draco fire-calls Uncle Sev and tells him what’s happening, and he comes through right away and performs some spell-”

“ _ Secretorium Revelium.” _ inserts Draco.

“Yeah, that, and then he cast  _ Petrificus Totalus  _ on Scabbers and Flooed straight to Dumbledores office.” Ron stops to take a drink of water, and Hermione picks up where he left off. 

“Uncle Sev sent a letter the next day. Scabbers wasn’t a rat at all. He was a man named Peter Pettigrew, and it turns out he’s the one who… well, all those years ago he--” Hermione didn’t seem to know how to finish her sentence, and almost everyone else was picking at their plate of food to avoid their eyes. 

“He... what? What did he do?” Harry finally asked, wondering what could be so bad considering he’d never even heard the man’s name. 

“He’s the one who betrayed your parents to Voldemort, Harry.” Luna finally said in her quiet, solemn voice.

For a moment, Harry didn’t process what she said. Then a rush of anger swept through him. This man,  _ Peter Pettigrew,  _ was the reason that Harry’s parents had been killed all those years ago, and he didn’t even have the decency to get caught? To be punished? No, instead he had been sleeping in Ron’s bed all these years, in the same dorm as Harry every night for almost two years. 

The plates on the table rattled, shaken by an invisible force, and cabinets slammed open behind them. Harry’s glass in front of him burst inward, collapsing into a small pile of glass and water, which began to spread across the table. Harry blinked, and felt the tide of anger roll back out, leaving him drained. 

He stood, grabbing his napkin, and tried to stop the water from spilling over the edge and onto the floor.

“Sorry.” He said, was a little surprised at how smooth his own voice was. The puddle disappeared from where he had been trying to clean it up, leaving the napkin in his hand dry but taking the glass with it, and Harry blinked up at Bill in surprise. “Thanks.” He said shortly, and the man smiled tightly at him.

“That’s not all, Harry.” Said Ron. His face was more solemn than Harry had seen it in a while. Harry tried to brace himself.

“What else?” He asked tiredly. Hopefully, it couldn’t be worse than a troll in the dungeon, or the man who got his parents killed hiding under his nose.

“They had someone else in prison for what happened to your parents,” says Mrs. Weasley. “Your dad used to have three best friends, and for a long time they thought Sirius Black was the one consorting with Voldemort, and the one who betrayed your parents to him. Sirius is your Godfather. He’s been in Azkaban, the wizarding prison, for the past 12 years. Pettigrew, who was also your father’s friend, framed him, but Sirius is free now.” 

Harry didn’t know what to say. Immediately, hope wanted to swell in his chest, but he tried not to let it. But wasn’t that what always happened in the fairy tales Harry had wished he was a part of for so long? A mysterious family member or friend of the family comes out of the woodwork and whisks the poor little orphan boy away from his horrible family. 

But Harry had had hope before, and he wasn’t sure he could handle someone stomping all over it again. 

“Can I--” Harry started, but his voice was strained, and he paused to clear his throat, before trying again. “Can I… meet him?” 

Mrs. Weasley smiled sadly at him, and Harry’s stomach dropped. Of course.  _ Of course.  _

“He’s been in prison for the past 12 years, dear. He’s recuperating at Hogwarts right now, working to get himself and his affairs in order. I’m certain once the year starts you’ll be welcome to visit with him all you like.”

Harry nodded dumbly, and poked at a carrot on his plate, avoiding the pitying glances he could feel from several directions.

“Why don’t you kids clear your places and go flying?” Mrs. Weasley suggests, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled around them. There’s a burst of agreement around him, and Harry lets himself be swept into the movement as everyone runs to grab brooms, trying to forget the feeling of something he wants so desperately being just out of reach, again. 

**Author's Note:**

> please drop a comment and tell me what you think! i do my best to always reply, and i love to know what you guys think!! 
> 
> twitter: @fullmetaIelric (the 3rd L in Fullmetal is an i)


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